The Ghost Of A Kiss
by hevaann
Summary: Dean was, predictably, dying. Sam was, also predictably, worrying and crying. Who knew? SLASH


**Set During: **_In My Time Of Dying _**(Season 2), **_Death Takes A Holiday _**(Season 4)**

_AN: The characters are not mine. I have just borrowed them to torment their souls._

After Dean had stalked the hospital halls, trying to get someone's attention – anyone – he had wandered off to find Sam and had an equal amount of luck. This had of course pissed him off; with all Sam's psychic crap he should be able to hear the ghost of his own _brother _for Christ's sake.

Defeated, Dean had then returned to his body in an attempt to get his own attention, but after ten minutes of clicking his fingers in his face and shouting in his ear, his body had decided not to wake up and his soul collapsed in a heap in the corner. Eventually, after what seemed like a decade, Sam came into the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

"Well it's about time! I thought Dad was getting all the attention." Dean had still been hopeful his brother would hear him, but soon resigned himself to the fact he couldn't.

Sam pulled the chair over from by the window and sat down next to Dean's bed. The ghost of Dean made himself comfortable on the end of it.

"Damn it Dean! I don't know what I would do without you."

"Hey hold up! Who said I was dying? Do I look like I'm dying to you? Have some faith in me dude."

Sam used the back of his hand to wipe away a tear from where it was pooling in the corner of his eye, then reached down to grasp Dean's lifeless hand on the bed.

"Oh come on Sammy," Dean said, rolling his eyes, "Don't be a sap."

"I love you, you crazy fucker."

"Okay," Dean flung his hands in the air and tried to whack Sam round the head, forgetting that he didn't exactly have a corporal form right now. "Cut the crap! Bitch." He added.

"Jerk." Sam muttered under his breath, causing Dean to snap his head up in attention.

"Sammy?" No response. Dean fell back down on the end of the bed and glanced at his comatose form.

"I still look hot though." He decided, with his trademark lack of modesty.

Sam leant forward in the chair, bending his elbow to bring their entwining hands to his face. He dropped a light kiss onto his brother's fingers. Dean pretended to gag over the side of the bed.

"Come on, Dean, wake up."

Dean's body showed no movement, and Sam sighed in despair as he gently let go of the unresponsive hand, then stood up and carefully leant over the sleeping form. A tear trickled down his face and off his nose, landing on Dean's cheek.

"Dude!" Dean called, raising his arm in indignation, "You're getting me all wet."

"I'll be back," Sam whispered, brushing the fallen tear from Dean's face. Then, hand still on the warm cheek, he bent down and kissed him, lips slightly parted, on the mouth.

The ghost of Dean unconsciously licked his lips, watching as Sam righted himself again and headed for the door.

"I knew it!" He called after the retreating figure, "You just _had_ to be gay, Dude!"

* * *

"So wait," Sam said, alternating his eyes between his brother and the dashboard, "You don't remember anything about being a ghost?"

"Am I meant to? Did I miss something epic? Oh God, I had a hot nurse, didn't I? Bloody typical."

"I just mean the Ouija board and stuff."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Ouija board? Dude, that is so lame."

Sam just shook his head and settled down in his seat. He supposed what Dean didn't know couldn't come back and bite Sam in the ass.

* * *

It was another stingy motel room with a dodgy theme. It was two years later.

Sam was sitting up against his pillows researching, until he was disturbed by Dean loudly collapsing on the edge of the bed next to him. He threw the book to one side and swung his legs off to face his brother.

"What?" He hoped it was important, hell, he hoped it was distracting; it was too long since he had had the taste of Ruby in his mouth.

"I remember, Sammy."

Sam gave half a smile, "Fantastic, good for you."

"You have no idea what I'm on about, do you?"

"Not a clue."

"When Tessa touched me, well ghost me, she gave me my memories back – you know, from the hospital after the crash?"

Sam ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips.

"And I keep trying to figure it out," Dean continued, "Make some sense of it, but the fact still remains that you kissed me."

Sam opened and closed his mouth several times before settling on, "You were dying."

"You kissed me."

"Yeah, you said that." Sam stood up and wandered over to the window, running his hand through his hair.

Dean had clasped his hands in front of him and was looking through them at the floor.

"Now I know a lot about kisses," He smirked, "A hell of a lot actually. And well there's the _peck for your mother kiss_, the _that's a pretty dress but I don't wanna sleep with you_ kiss, the _our parents set us up and this is awkward kiss_, the _you're really fugly kiss_ the..."

"Get to the point, Dean."

Dean turned his head up and looked Sam straight in the eyes.

"The point is that it wasn't one of those sort of kisses. It was an _I really care about you but I still want to jump your bones_ kind of kiss."

"Uh! You're crazy!" Sam exclaimed and then sighed, moving across the room to sit back down on the bed.

"I honestly thought you were going to die and I guess I was emotional. There is no way I would have wanted to fuck your ugly ass."

Dean looked up in mock horror, "You think my ass is ugly?" He stood up and shook his backside in his brother's face.

Half laughing, Sam grabbed him by the waist and attempted to spin him back round, when all that really happened was that they both landed in a heap on the bed, faces dangerously close, legs entwined.

"Well, this is awkward." Said Dean, he raised his eyebrows questioningly; "You still think my ass is ugly?"

"Totally." Sam responded, with a grin. In response, Dean fell slowly forward and planted a kiss on Sam's shocked lips.

"What was that for?" He asked, aware that neither of them had shifted their positions.

"I was unconscious last time," Dean answered, offhandedly, "Why should you get all the fun?" But although his voice was quipped, there was a seriousness roaring behind his eyes that Sam leant in to tame with a kiss of his own.

"You know," Sam said, as Dean ripped the shirt off him, "I think this is against some of society's rules."

Dean flipped him over, trailing kisses down Sam's neck and collarbone,

"I'm a rule breaker, Sammy." He explained.


End file.
